Coffee
by transient.thought
Summary: It's funny how something so seemingly trivial can define the better part of your life. Of course, definitions change over time. Slash, HunterCam.


I don't own PRNS or any of the characters, nor do I make any money from this work of fiction.

Note: I am entirely making up Cam's age. I think he's supposed to be older in the show, but hey…writer's privilege, right? Also, this is complete speculation on his past.

Summary: It's funny how something so seemingly trivial can define you.

Pairings: Hunter/Cam slash, past Cam/OC

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Coffee

He'd first tasted coffee when he was three years old.

It seemed like a silly, trivial thing to remember, but considering it had been right after his mother's death, maybe it wasn't.

He remembered seeing the abandoned canister of coffee sitting in the cupboard. His father never drank coffee—he preferred tea or water. His mother had been the only coffee drinker in the household. And since she was gone, there was no one around to finish off what was left.

Cam had been three years old and too smart for his age (the latter being something that people said hadn't changed much), and he'd wanted to know what had been so great about the drink his mother had made every day. So he'd tried it. He filled a cup with water, fumbled a little before putting it in the microwave, and had warmed it up, just like his mother had. He thought he remembered the right amount of coffee powder to stir in, but he must have been wrong because the coffee was bitter and left a funny taste in his mouth.

He forced himself to finish it, hoping that he would see what his mother had liked about it, that even though she wasn't there and his father said she wasn't coming back, she would sense their connection and return to him. To them. It didn't make any sense, but no matter how smart he was for his age, he was still a three year old boy who had just been told that his mother was never coming home again.

All he got for his efforts was an upset stomach and a bout of hyperactivity that left his father mystified.

As he grew older, he learned that coffee was supposed to taste bitter and that some people liked it that way. He had no desire to try it again, though, so he stuck to the tea that his father preferred. He did a lot of things the way his father preferred.

That lasted until he was fifteen. Then came the first (and most certainly not the last) time that he was denied the right to train at the Wind Ninja Academy. He'd gotten so angry with his father that he'd walked off-campus and into town. A coffee shop had been the first place he'd happened upon in town, and almost out of spite he'd bought himself a small black coffee, as if he was rejecting his father's ways as his father had rejected him.

It didn't taste nearly as bad as he remembered, and the drink calmed him as he stared moodily out the window and tried to figure out what he was going to do.

That was when he started drinking coffee regularly. The caffeine helped him survive the long nights over the next two years, studying to keep up his pretenses of accepting his status as a non-ninja while secretly slipping into classes when his father was elsewhere and learning all he could. Without trying, he was a fast learner. When he _wanted_ to learn…soon enough he was sure he could best most of the ninjas at the Wind Academy, with the exception of some of the older students and, of course, his father. But it wasn't enough. He wanted to be recognized—he wanted everyone to see that he wasn't just the tech guy—that he was more than Kanoi Watanabe's son.

Then he graduated at seventeen, and went to college. He lived on-campus. It was one of the few things he and his father agreed upon. Cam was finally free from his father's incessant watching, something that greatly appealed to him, but he was away from the Academy—something that appealed to his father. Without access to the Wind Academy he'd feared that he wouldn't be able to keep up his clandestine training, but his college had a mixed martial arts club and he joined that straight away, training diligently and slipping in Wind Academy techniques during his private practice.

The workers at the on-campus coffee place knew him, although not necessarily by name. He was the one guy who always came in and ordered a tall black coffee, nothing else. No, he didn't want the special drink of the month, he didn't want cream or sugar, and no thanks, he wasn't interested in a scone. He was an easy customer to satisfy—at least when it came to his drink of choice.

He was twenty when he graduated with his major in computer science. That was also when he met Lukas.

Oddly enough, he met him at the coffee place he'd first started going to at fifteen. The workers there knew him on a first name basis too, and the owner particularly liked him. Lukas was quickly becoming a regular there, and the owner liked him too. Lukas was twenty three, a med student, and gay. And he made no secret of the fact that he liked Cam.

On Cam's part, Lukas' advances (once he actually noticed them) were met with a mix of bewilderment and wariness. He had never considered his sexuality, not really. He'd only been on a few dates during college, and they had all been girls that were unable to hold his interest for more than a second date. While he wasn't disgusted by the thought of being with another guy…it wasn't something he'd ever thought about.

At least, not until Lukas had kissed him. It wasn't unexpected—after all, Cam had never turned him away when he came up to chat, and he hadn't told Lukas to back off with his flirtatiousness—but he still hadn't considered the other man as a possible significant other until he was walked back to his apartment and kissed goodbye.

It hadn't been unpleasant. In fact, as Lukas had smiled at him and left, the only thing Cam had wondered about was why it wasn't like that with any of the girls.

In less than a month he had agreed to start dating Lukas and he came out to his father. He had known, after kissing Lukas, that girls just weren't the same. They didn't interest him, they didn't attract him…Lukas did.

His father hadn't been angry, exactly, but they had stopped talking for nearly a month. It was mostly because of awkwardness and less because of homophobia. Cam had taken the opportunity to begin freelance work for the college. He was making pretty decent money, and he was free to do whatever he wanted in his spare time. He and Lukas were together almost every day, and Cam's schedule was no longer so jam-packed that he had to depend on coffee to keep him awake every night. More than four hours of sleep was no longer a luxury, it was commonplace—especially when Lukas stayed the night.

He and his father had begun to speak again and Cam made a few trips out to the Wind Academy to fix the holographic portals and to make sure the zord bay was clean and functional. He didn't know why his father thought they would ever need the Wind morphers or the zords, but he just did the maintenance without question. It was easy enough, and his father appreciated it. He also observed a few of the ninja classes and brushed up on his technique during the visits. If his father had figured it out, he never said anything.

He and Lukas lasted for just over a year. It was a mutual but unwilling breakup—Lukas had gotten a study/work abroad offer that was too prestigious to refuse, and neither of them were believers in long-distance relationships, at least over a distance that large and a time span of two or more years. The day before Lukas left for England Cam kissed him goodbye and headed straight for the coffee shop.

Without anyone to tell him otherwise, he began to bury himself in work again. The nights became longer, the sleeping time became shorter, and the coffee became stronger. It helped him deal with the loneliness, though he never admitted it to himself.

Six months later, and Cam was twenty-two with endless possibilities at his feet. His work had become well-recognized and he had gotten offers from several engineering schools and even several companies that were willing to employ him while he finished graduate studies. He had now caught up in age to his classmates. He had been taking two weeks off at home while seriously considering some of the offers, and that was when the Wind Academy was attacked by an evil space ninja. His father was trapped as a guinea pig, and three irresponsible teenagers had been chosen to become the Wind Power Rangers.

Coffee became an absolute necessity. He suspended his decisions, moved into Ninja Ops, and became the technical support for the three novice ninjas. There was rarely a time when Cam was seen without a coffee thermos next to him as he typed away at the computer system he thought he'd never have to use, fixing the equipment he'd never expected to become active.

He came to realize that coffee described him, at that point in his life and so many others. He was bitter. Bitter because his father would trust three ninjas who couldn't even be on time with the protection of Blue Bay Harbor, while he was stuck in Ninja Ops, being the tech guy.

Coffee was also dark, and that reminded him of himself too, of his thoughts and fears. Because while the Rangers didn't think much about what would happen if they lost, Cam did. During his off-nights (where he was able to catch maybe five hours of sleep instead of four or less) he often tried to figure out what they could possibly do if the Rangers ever lost to Lothor. The options weren't looking good.

He also watched out for the Winds, patched them up after particularly tough battles, made sure they were eating and sleeping enough…because if he didn't, who would? His father literally wasn't capable, and he was the only other person who knew enough about what they were doing to keep everything running smoothly. His father finally began to let him train with the others, but Cam wasn't allowed to do much more than go running with them or meditate. It was frustrating.

Then, about a month or so into his new job, the Thunder Rangers appeared and he got even less sleep than before. He couldn't figure it out. Evil Rangers? Why? What could Lothor possibly have convinced them of for them to work with him?

He got his answer when they got into Ninja Ops. Cam had been coding for a new power disk when he'd heard the faintest whoosh of displaced air behind him. It had been enough. His (in his opinion) healthy sense of paranoia had been the only thing that had saved him from a blow that would've knocked him unconscious. But no matter how much training he'd secretly gotten, he wasn't a match for two Rangers. They had taken his father, and Cam felt like he hadn't been able to breathe until his father had been safely returned.

The Bradley brothers had eventually joined the team, and surprisingly, Cam was able to get a little more sleep. Hunter and Blake, in exchange for being able to take their meals at Ops (their apartment was costly enough that they couldn't afford decent food on top of everything else), fixed the Tsunami cycles and did so well enough that his main concerns were the zords and the weaponry. Two additional Rangers meant more things to fix, but with the added firepower the equipment tended to be less damaged than it had been before. Sometimes.

Four hours of sleep a night or less became the norm for him, and it didn't take very long for Hunter and Blake to notice his habits. Hunter, of course, had something to say about it.

"Do you ever sleep?" he asked abruptly, having just come in from fixing Shane's Tsunami cycle.

"If I didn't sleep, I'd probably be comatose by now," drawled Cam, not looking up from his computer, "So yes. I do sleep."

"When?" Hunter wanted to know. "We leave here at midnight and you're still up, and we come in for dawn training and you're still working."

"Does it matter?" replied Cam, eyes on the screen as he took a sip of coffee. Sometimes he missed the place he had gone to before he'd moved back to Ops—his tiny coffee pot wasn't nearly good enough—but he hadn't been there since the day Lukas had left.

"It kind of does," replied Hunter, crossing his arms. "You're the one making sure we don't explode up there. How good is your work if you're exhausted when you do it?"

Cam bristled. "Have you exploded yet?" he demanded, turning to Hunter and glaring at him. "Has my work ever been substandard? I'm well aware of my limits, Hunter, and I don't appreciate them being questioned, especially when I _am_ the one looking out for the five of you."

"You would ignore your limits if you thought it would help out," Hunter countered, ignoring his obvious irritation. "You already drink coffee like it's in your job description, and _that_ can't be healthy. I'm sure you've pulled all-nighters because you think you have to."

Cam his eyes and counted to ten. He only got to five before he snapped, "Look, I'm busy, and you're bothering me. Maybe if you stopped I'd get some work done and be able to sleep later. Then your fears of being blown up could be put aside, right?"

"I'm just saying," said Hunter, shrugging. He was annoyingly unruffled by Cam's testiness. "You're part of the team, and that means that we're not the only ones who have to take care of ourselves."

"I'm not part of your team," said Cam flatly. "And I can handle myself."

Hunter frowned, and Cam caught a quick flash of something in his expression before it was carefully masked behind a façade of indifference.

"Maybe you would feel more like part of the team if you acted like it," he said stiffly, showing a little irritation for the first time since he had initiated the conversation. Cam felt oddly satisfied that he'd finally struck a nerve. Hunter walked away, and Cam went back to his work, taking another sip of coffee.

He wasn't part of the team, not as an equal, and that was proven the day before he became a ranger, when the others had stared at him in disbelief as he finally showed off what he'd learned and broke a marble block in half. Their skeptical comments along with his father's refusal to train him in the ninja way had finally set him off. He'd unintentionally let them know more about himself than he'd wanted, but it couldn't be helped.

When Tori had tentatively approached him, he'd been pathetically happy that someone cared, and so he'd confided in her. She was a little flaky sometimes, but she usually had her head and her heart in the right place.

Then the ranger powers got stolen, and he threw himself back in time to retrieve the only power source he'd ever read about that was powerful enough to help them. It was his job, after all. But then he saw her.

His mother was everything his father had described her as and more, and Cam had almost wanted to risk being trapped in the past just for the chance to know her. His mind had flashed back to his three year old self, trying to connect with his dead mother through a cup of black, bitter liquid, and oddly enough, it was one of the things he wanted to tell her. That he'd tried to bring her back, tried to connect with her even though he had been told to say goodbye.

But life had to move on, and he had to help the others. So he went back, albeit reluctantly. He morphed alone in the woods for the first time, located the chopper that had magically appeared, and saved the day. He had finally, after so many years, managed to prove himself. He was a fighter, he was capable, he was samurai, and most importantly, he finally felt like he was Cameron Watanabe—not Kanoi Watanabe's son, but his own person.

The others welcomed him into the fold with smiles and his own training gear, and Cam was genuinely happy for the first time in what seemed like forever. He felt very…different. It was strange.

He carefully folded the training uniform he had come back in and placed it next to the picture of his mother. Solemnly, he bowed to the photo and murmured, "Mother…it was nice to see you again."

"Was it?" asked a voice. Of course, it was Hunter.

"I thought you went home," stated Cam.

"I forgot the papers Blake and I need for the race this weekend," replied Hunter, leaning against the doorway. He seemed strangely subdued as he inclined his head toward the photo. "Was it nice?"

Of course. Hunter had seen his dead parents again too, just months before. Normally Cam would've told him it was none of his business, but something made him answer, "It was…bittersweet."

"Because you knew you had to leave?" asked Hunter, deciding that it was safe to approach him.

"Yes," confirmed Cam, "And because…she was young." His voice turned quiet and his tone soft. "She thought she had her whole life ahead of her, and instead she died."

"It's not fair," muttered Hunter, speaking for both of them.

"It isn't," agreed Cam, glancing at the coffee next to his computer. "But…I am thankful for what I do have."

"You know it's not just the ranger thing, right?" Hunter questioned abruptly, straightening. "That's not why they're—we're—suddenly so open and friendly."

The thought had crossed his mind, he had to admit—the idea that the others had only accepted him because he was a ranger now—but he had dismissed the suspicion. He'd learned that the other Rangers were genuinely good people. You just had to learn how to relate to them…and to trust them every once in awhile.

"I think you opened up to us for the first time today," said Hunter, echoing his thoughts. "You weren't sarcastic or aloof…you didn't remove yourself from us. You were human. It was…good."

"It was good that I yelled at you all?" asked Cam skeptically.

Hunter shrugged. "When you acted like all you were was tech support instead of a teammate…we began to treat you like it," he explained. "We just needed the reminder. And when you yelled at us…it made us realize that you aren't a machine. You're just a guy, and the fact that you're a socially inept genius who avoids us whenever he can is no reason to give up on including you."

Cam blinked in surprise, processing what Hunter was saying. "…I'm not socially inept," he found himself replying. "You just don't know how to relate to me."

"What if I want to?" asked Hunter, and Cam wondered when they had gotten so close to each other. Hunter was less than three feet away.

"Excuse me?" he asked, a little confused.

"What if I want to know how to relate to you?" asked Hunter, and he was even closer than he had been.

"Why?" asked Cam, for lack of anything else to say.

"You're interesting," admitted Hunter. "I like interesting. And you can punch me for this later, but…" He ducked his head down just enough to kiss Cam lightly.

Cam's eyes widened in surprise before they slid shut. Kissing Hunter was surprisingly pleasant, and when it ended, he stared at Hunter in surprise.

Hunter stared right back at him, tensed up and obviously waiting for a reaction. "…You aren't punching me," he said, a little surprised.

"You definitely don't know me that well yet," Cam replied, finding his voice. "I wasn't planning on punching you."

"Like I said, I want to," replied Hunter, studying him.

"Once you get to know me, you might wish you hadn't," Cam told him cryptically.

"That's not a 'no,'" observed Hunter. "That's also not a 'get away from me, you sick fuck.'"

"It would be kind of hypocritical for me to be homophobic when I'm gay," Cam told him.

"…You are?" asked Hunter, eyes widening. "I thought so…I mean, that's the only reason that I…but…"

Seeing the normally unflappable crimson ranger so tongue-tied was kind of amusing.

"You know, if you want to be able to relate to me, you're going to have to do something more than kiss me in the middle of Ops," Cam told him wryly. "Lesson number one in getting to know me: I'm not easy."

Hunter relaxed and grinned. "I could've told you that," he replied. A glance around, and he said, "Lothor's beaten for today and the equipment can wait a couple of hours…what do you say to going out somewhere?" A tentative smirk, and he added, "I'll buy you coffee."

"So you do know something," said Cam, amused. He considered it, and then nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Coffee is good."

For the first time in a long time, he went to the coffee shop that had been one of the most important places in his life. Hunter made good on his promise and bought him coffee, and the two of them sat across from each other in the sparsely populated café.

"I've always wanted to ask—how do you drink your coffee like that?" questioned Hunter skeptically, watching Cam sip his purely black coffee as he had some of his own mocha.

Cam mulled over that question. No one had ever really questioned his drink of choice before. They offered him alternatives, but they had never asked about the reasons behind his refusal.

"I…just do," he answered at last. "I always have."

"It looks like you added a little water to a lot of espresso," replied Hunter, wincing. He pushed his drink toward Cam. "Here. Try," he ordered.

Cam was tempted to shake his head, but…looking at Hunter, something made him change his mind. Maybe it was time for something new, after all.

He picked up the paper cup and took a tentative sip. The coffee, of course, wasn't nearly as strong as he was used to. It was mostly milk and chocolate syrup, and loaded with sugar…but surprisingly, it wasn't all that bad. In fact…

"It's pretty good," he told Hunter, sliding it back toward him.

Hunter shook his head, stopping him. "Finish it. I'll get something else," he offered. "You've gotta be tired of all that bitter stuff by now."

The words struck something deep within him, and Cam realized what had changed since two days ago. Somewhere along his journey, he had finally let go of the bitterness that had plagued him since his teenage years. He had gotten to train, he had plenty of job opportunities waiting whenever he wanted to follow up on them, he was a ranger…he was finally in charge of his own life, and he was finally living the way he wanted to.

"Thanks," he said at last, watching as Hunter threw away his previous drink and headed to the counter.

The bell over the door rang as someone walked in, and Cam was looking absently out the window when he heard a very familiar voice ask, "Cam?"

He turned to see Lukas standing behind him with a tentative smile. "Cam, it's been awhile," he greeted quietly.

"Almost a year," agreed Cam, surprised. "What brings you back to the States? I thought you were in England for at least two years."

"A vacation, the last one I'll be getting for awhile," replied Lukas, chuckling. He sobered a little and asked, "So…how have you been?"

Cam seriously considered that question. "I've been all sorts of things," he answered wryly at last, "But…I'm doing well. You?"

"I'm doing very well," replied Lukas. "I really like the hospital I'm rotating at. It was a good position for me."

"That's good," replied Cam, taking a sip of his drink. "I thought it would be."

"Is that a mocha?" asked Lukas in surprise, smelling it on the air. He gave Cam a disbelieving look. "I never thought I'd see the day where you had anything other than straight black."

Cam smiled at that. "Things change," he replied, as Hunter began to walk back over and spotted Lukas.

Lukas saw Hunter, saw the look he was giving Cam, and understood immediately. "They do," he agreed, giving Cam a wistful smile. "I'm glad you…"

"Thanks," replied Cam, saving him from the awkwardness. Hunter was close enough to hear them now and he introduced simply, "Lukas, this is Hunter. Hunter, Lukas."

"Hey," said Hunter, inclining his head.

Lukas nodded back at him. "I should get going," he told Cam, "It was nice to see you again, though, and it's good that you're happy. You deserve it."

"So do you," Cam told him sincerely. "Take care, Lukas." Surprisingly, seeing someone who had been such a big part of his life and had changed him in so many ways…it didn't hurt, nor did Cam feel lonely like he thought he might. He just felt…happy, that Lukas was doing okay. Maybe a little nostalgic, but as he switched his gaze to the blond in front of him, he knew that he was happy with where he was, and with whom he was apparently with.

Lukas walked to the counter and Hunter sat back down, giving Cam a questioning look. "Something up?" he wanted to know.

"Nothing to worry about," Cam told him, spotting Hunter's new drink and taking a sip of it impulsively.

"Hey!" protested Hunter in good nature, letting his questions slide in favor of flirting with Cam. "Make up your mind!"

Cam grimaced. "Cold coffee?" he asked, pushing the drink back to Hunter. "Trust me, my mind's made up. How do you drink that?"

"Says the guy who drank nothing but black coffee for months," pointed out Hunter.

"Years," corrected Cam lightly, "And I tried something new, didn't I?" He meant more than just the drink, and they both knew it.

Hunter grinned. "Well," he said, tapping his cup against Cam's in a pseudo-toast, "I guess there's always room for change."

* * *

So this is my first published fiction, and I hope you all enjoyed it! 


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